


Borrowed Nights

by Flashyfirebird



Series: The road to happiness has many potholes [1]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, 半妖の夜叉姫 | Hanyou no Yashahime | Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Demon/Human Relationships, Demons, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hanyou InuYasha (InuYasha), Human Setsuna, Humanity, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Sleep, Sleeping Beauty - Freeform, human nights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flashyfirebird/pseuds/Flashyfirebird
Summary: “Did you ever consider,” said Miroku, “that when the dream butterfly curse is broken, you may need to make up a lot of borrowed time?”In which Setsuna sleeps for a very long time and pays the price for her missed new moons.OR, in which a human Setsuna gets some quality bonding time with Rin and Sesshomaru, Setsuna and Hisui discuss their feelings for each other, and Moroha is Moroha. Takes place in the future, after the final battle with Kirinmaru. Mostly fluff, with a bit of angst for good measure. A story in six parts.
Relationships: Hisui/Setsuna (Hanyou no Yashahime)
Series: The road to happiness has many potholes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122599
Comments: 24
Kudos: 83





	1. Broken curses, tortured dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I’m going off the assumption that Sesshomaru and Rin probably helped raise Setsuna, and once the dream butterfly is gone some of those memories will come back. For the purposes of this story, it took them 4 years to defeat Kirinmaru (I decided to age up the characters so any potential romances seem less weird. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: Inuyasha and Yashahime are not mine. Anything you recognize does not belong to me.

“Did you ever consider,” Miroku asks Setsuna once, a year into their fight with Kirinmaru, after he’s resealed her demon powers for a third—or is it the fourth?—time, in the aftermath of a particularly vicious battle, “that when the dream butterfly curse is broken, you may need to make up a _lot_ of borrowed time?” 

At the time, Setsuna shrugs it off. 

Now, three years later, as Kinmaru _finally_ implodes beneath a wave of their combined power and the dream butterfly dissolves into nothing, she wonders if she should have paid more attention. 

-v-

It isn’t supposed to be like this. It _shouldn’t_ be like this—in a reasonable world. She’s given her dreams, all her nights, to her mother. They should be gone forever.

But nothing in life ever goes as you expect, no logic is ever foolproof, especially not in the chaos of the feudal era. 

Setsuna might be a half-demon, but she can’t go forever without sleep. The moment the dream butterfly’s spell is broken, she collapses, the built-up debt from so many nights like a weight crushing her to the ground. 

She has a faint impression of somebody catching her—perhaps it’s Towa, perhaps Hisui. Someone carries her, huffing faintly with exertion—Hisui, then—and lays her gently on a bed. 

-v-

Setsuna dreams. 

She dreams of her parents--of her father, watchful, gliding through the forest. Of her mother, trapped in the tree of ages--now awake. _Setsuna, my dear Setsuna, look how you’ve grown._

She dreams of the battle with Kirinmaru. In her dreams, she fights him over and over, sometimes with the others, sometimes alone, sometimes with weapons, sometimes without. Sometimes he wins, sometimes he loses, sometimes he laughs at her before he dissolves. 

She dreams of the past—her adventures with Towa and Moroha, and before that, training with Kohaku and Hisui to be a demon slayer. She dreams of turning full demon and rampaging through the village, of being sealed by Miroku, of herself and Towa, running through the forest as chidren.

Sometimes, without knowing why, she dreams of Hisui. She has no call to be dreaming about him—it’s not like there’s anything between them—but he invades her dreams anyway. These dreams are more pleasant than most of the others. They’re also more embarrassing, and she would wake up red-faced and blushing—

If she could wake up at all.

-v-

She doesn’t know how long she sleeps. 

Only that one day, she is not asleep anymore. The shadows are lengthening; it must be almost dusk; and a familiar figure stands above her, one she recognizes instantly in the absence of the dream butterfly’s spell. 

“Father.”

She remembers now—some of it, anyway. It’s still a haze in her head, blurred with the dreams she just lived through—but the pieces are starting to fall into place. _Her and her mother and Jaken, on the run after Towa vanished, constantly moving from place to place. Her parents’ pact with the dream butterfly, a last-ditch effort to protect her from Zero._ Her father had visited them sometimes, when he wasn’t staying away to keep them hidden, and even when he wasn’t there, she’d sometimes caught his scent and known he was in the area, close enough to come if something happened. 

He’d pulled her and Rin out of the fire when she was four. 

He’d also taught her how to hunt.

Setsuna forces her eyes open, tries to struggle to her feet. Her father shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, and she falls back, her strength spent. Her nails, she realizes, are no longer pointed; they are human, fully human. She glances down and swallows at the sight of her hair—fully black, no longer tipped with red. 

“Did I—” she starts, and then breaks off, assailed with worry. _Did I do the right thing, did we all make it through._ “Is everyone—”

“You did well, Setsuna. Sleep.”

She relaxes. Her father would not lie to her, so everything must be all right.

She drifts in and out. Voices reach her sometimes, and her eyes flutter open, only for another wave of sleep to drag her down. Normally her weakness would have terrified her, but the voices are familiar, the scents are familiar— _Mother, Jaken, Towa, Hisui, Moroha, Father, Kaede_. Their voices drift in and out, a steady hum at the back of her consciousness. 

When she next wakes, it’s morning, and Towa and their mother are whispering beside her. 

“She’s slept for so long. Will she be all right?”

 _How long have I slept?_ Setsuna wonders. She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know her nails are still curved, and her hair is still black—human still, but for how long?

Rin’s voice is soft, as though concealing a smile. “She’ll be fine, Towa. Give her time.”

“She’s been human for over a week now. What if she’s—”

“I can hear you, Towa,” says Setsuna, not opening her eyes, and their mother laughs. A hand brushes her hair and she falls back asleep again. 

The third time she wakes, Towa is gone, and Hisui's sitting beside her. 


	2. Human Weakness

Setsuna watches Hisui beneath half-closed lids. He doesn’t know she’s awake yet, which makes this whole thing awkward. A part of her—a big part—thinks she should just close her eyes and go back to sleep. She feels more awake than she did the last times she woke, but her muscles are limp, weak, and rubbery, and she has no doubt that if she closes her eyes she’ll be back to sleep very soon. 

And yet. 

Hisui is mending a crack in Hiraikotsu, pouring some kind of paste into its edge. The final battle is muddled in Setsuna's mind—it’s hard to separate dream from reality—but she vaguely remembers him leaping in front of her. Hiraikotsu cracking.

“Is it fixable?” 

The words slip out without thinking. So much for pretending to be asleep. But Hisui seems pleased that she’s woken up, judging by the way his eyes brighten.

He’s always been easily pleased. 

“I think so,” he says. “Uncle Kohaku found a demon paste that should work.”

She’s surprised she’s so relieved. He loves that boomerang, treats it with more care than she gives her naginata.

 _And shouldn’t he? It’s not like he has claws for backup._ She glances down. _But right now… neither do I._

“Do you feel different?” he asks her. “As human?”

“Tired,” she answers. “Weak.”

She tries not to feel guilty at the hurt in his eyes. 

-v-

She has never understood how they do it.

Hisui. Kohaku. Her mother. Even Moroha, with her one quarter blood.

Setsuna has no energy; she wants to sleep for years. And yet here’s Hisui, full human, somehow fighting demons, somehow wielding a weapon like Hiraikotsu as though it’s nothing at all. It’s heavy; she _knows_ how much the boomerang weighs; the thought of even trying to carry it in her current state is ludicrous. 

How is he able, day after day, to stand up to demons? To face them? What kind of mad courage must he have, to be driven thus?

-v-

He’s staring at her. 

She looks away, shame reddening her face. 

“I suppose it is weakness, being human,” he says. 

“I should have thought before I spoke.”

“Sometimes I envy your powers. I’d be stupid not to, really. But I make do. All humans do.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Hisui smiles. “Don’t be. You’re an honest person. And it’s natural for you to be annoyed over your circumstances right now. I would be too.”

Words bubble up, writhe at the back of her throat, clamoring to be spoken. But she has no idea how to say them. Setsuna swallows. 

“You brought me back here,” she says. “After I fell asleep. And I think you took a hit that was meant for me. With Hiraikotsu.”

He tenses, fractionally. Even without her demon senses, Setsuna catches it. His eyes meet hers, wide, almost hopeful. Setsuna swallows.

“Did you… I…” 

Gods, how is she so bad with words--why did she even open her mouth in the first place? It’s like being human has flipped a key, and suddenly she’s acting more stupid and awkward than _Towa_. 

She raises her head. “Thank you,” she says stiffly. “That's all I meant to say.”

He nods, relaxing again, but there’s an odd look in his face that she cannot interpret. Disappointment? Relief?

“You don’t need to thank me. You’ve saved my life, too.” He grins. “Many times throughout the years, when we were training. But it’s nice of you to say it.”

“Perhaps I’ll save your life again.” Setsuna winces, lying back upon the mat. “After all, this is only temporary. I won’t be human forever.”

“I know.” 

She watches him for awhile, the sunlight drifting through the window, making a halo around his hair. His movements are capable, certain; the gash in Hirakotsu becomes fainter as he works; gradually, the sound lulls her back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos make yours truly a happy camper! :)


	3. Inconsequential Secrets

A parade of people comes to visit her over the next week. There’s Moroha and Kohaku and Kaede, and Miroku and Sango and Jaken. There are two strangers who she learns are Miroha’s parents, Kagome and Inuyasha, trapped in a pearl for the last eighteen years. Even Riku stops by, more likely out of interest for Towa than out of concern for Setsuna’s well-being.

(Even as a human, Setsuna isn’t blind).

Through it all, her parents, Towa, and Hisui take turns keeping her company. If she wasn’t mostly asleep, it would be suffocating. As it is, it’s almost… nice. She can’t remember the last time she let her guard down, not like this. But right now it’s the only thing she seems capable of, weak and helpless, sipping broth whenever she manages to stay awake longer than five minutes.

She catches snatches of conversation as she drifts in and out. Miroku and Towa, discussing how long she’ll be human. Kaede, telling Rin stories of her progress as a demon slayer. Uncle Inuyasha, screaming at her father for stuffing him and Kagome into the pearl and banishing them to their father’s grave for eighteen years.

Moroha, telling Towa that if Setsuna doesn’t wake soon, she’ll paint a beard on her face.

_ That _ makes Setsuna lurch up from the pallet. “Dare to lay one drop of paint on me,” she says groggily, “and I’ll—”

“I  _ knew _ that would wake you up!” Moroha smirks. “Aaaaiiyy, you smell  _ so _ human right now! It’s bizarre.”

“Are you saying I need a bath?”

She probably does, not that she can appreciate it with her senses as weak as they are. After all, she’s been sleeping in one place for the better part of two weeks.

“Meh. Bathing’s overrated.” Ignoring any notion of personal space—not that she has much of one to begin with—Moroha takes Setsuna’s hair between her fingers, studies it with a keen eye. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down. Towa’s transformation is way more dramatic, you know. But I bet yours has it’s uses. I can’t wait to get to know human Setsuna better, can you, Towa?” She smirks, showing fang. “Tell me the truth, do you have a crush on Hisui?”

Setsuna’s eyes narrow, and she shoots Moroha her most stoic stare, fisting her hands in the bedsheets. She tries not to let a flush tinge her cheek.

“Hmmm.” Moroha prods her face. “How annoying. Even as a human, you’re still expressionless. Stop hiding your emotions, it makes everything less fun. I got a better response out of Towa, and she wasn’t even in her human form—”

“Hey!” 

“Well it’s true—you started spluttering and denying that you and Riku have a thing—”

The door opens, and the three of them look up as Sesshomaru enters the room. Setsuna heaves an (inward) sigh of relief and waits for Moroha to make her exit, like any sane person would do.

“So  _ you’re  _ the ‘Uncle Sesshomaru’ Myoga was always talking about!”

Towa, who’s just taken a gulp of water, almost squirts it out her nose in a fit of coughing.

Setsuna blinks.

“ _ Lord of the Western Lands _ , hm? I suppose that means you have a lot of money to your name, a lot of valuable items like jewels and gold and swords and pretty cloth. You know…”

_ Gods, _ Setsuna thinks _ , she doesn’t know when to stop _ — __

“...your cute niece has spent many hours  _ tirelessly  _ protecting your daughters from harm, without even getting so much as a meager bounty in return—”

Her father sweeps them a look, which Setsuna privately thinks is well-deserved, considering that Moroha now has both her and Towa in a chokehold of a hug, her grin strong enough to blind anyone in close proximity.  _ Shameless _ , she thinks,  _ how utterly shameless, I can’t believe we’re related. _ Somehow, despite her father’s stony gaze, Moroha is still smiling, and the innocence in her eyes seems to intensify, in a way only she is capable of. 

“Or, you know,” says Moroha, “you can reward me for secrets that a father would want to know. For instance, Setsuna likes Hisui, and Towa is in love with Riku—she has weird taste—”

“Aiiiiieeeeeeee!” cries Towa, lunging, but Moroha darts under Sesshomaru’s arm with a cackle of glee. Towa sprints after her. “You are SUCH a brat—”

The noise of the chase fades into the distance. Setsuna glances up at her father, who frowns. 

“It’s not true,” she says.

“Hn.”

She drops her gaze, stares down at her still-human nails. “He is a good man. But it would not work out. We are very different.” 

He’s human. 

Like her mother. 

A part of her knows it’s hypocritical of her to think like this, especially given the current state of her body, but she can’t help it. It’s something she’s always conscious of when they’re together, the invisible wall that surrounds her heart, catching any wayward emotion that might threaten to escape--especially as pertaining to Hisui. She is hanyou and he is human; they are not the same.

At least, that’s how she’s always thought.

Setsuna frowns at her nails, which are stubbornly refusing to change back to claws. Towa has done some math beside her as she dozes, calculating how long it will take to make up her lost human nights. Twelve nights per year for eight years, twelve hours per night. About forty-eight straight days and nights of being human, if Towa’s math is correct.

The calculations for Setsuna’s missed sleep are worse. She hopes that Towa is wrong, that there is some loophole. Otherwise she’ll be sleeping like this three straight years, and she’s not sure she can stand it.

She can’t remember ever being this weak. Even as a child she could hold her own, could wander the woods near their dwelling freely without fear of danger. On her human nights before the dream butterfly, she would sit with her mother, and her father would always be outside, watching, guarding them. On the nights he couldn’t be there, Jaken would stand watch. 

But that was long ago, so many years ago, and so much time has passed since she's been on her own. It feels strange still, to have her mother fussing over her, to have her father back. To remember now that they exist. To not be so alone anymore--not that she was alone with Moroha and Towa, but this is different. She is no longer the strong one, the responsible one, the adult. 

She's not quite sure how she feels about this. 

Her father is still studying her, his thoughts concealed behind his eyes. She wonders if he is ashamed. Ashamed of her in her human state.

“Do you…” Her voice is small. “Do you... hate having to guard me like this?” 

Fifty days of her lying here defenseless, being a burden. Setsuna twists the sheets between her hands. 

Moroha wasn’t entirely wrong; Setsuna's emotions  _ are  _ stronger as human, less blunted. She can hide them sometimes, but at others, they seep through. And right now she feels tiny, small and helpless, almost like she's five again, running her human nails against the floor, struggling to free herself from a transformation she doesn't want. 

"Sorry," she whispers. "I--"

“ _ No _ .” 

Setsuna looks up, startled. 

"Do not say such things," says her father, with a trace, just a trace, of anger.

She relaxes again, soothed by the words; somehow, she knows he’s not angry at  _ her _ . They’re alike enough for her to sense that much, at least.

Her father turns, about to leave again, and then pauses in the doorway. 

"Guarding one's family is not a burden," he says. "Just as being human does not make one weak."

She stares after him, surprised, because that is possibly the  _ last _ thing she had ever imagined might emerge from her father’s mouth.

As if sending her astonishment, her father's lip quirks downward. 

“Do not,” he adds, with a hint of a frown, “ _ ever _ repeat this conversation to your Uncle Inuyasha.”

“No,” says Setsuna, fighting the urge to smile. “No, no, I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help it--I love stoic, emotionless-on-the-outside, insecure-on-the-inside characters. I have a feeling Setsuna and Sesshomaru would have a special bond, because they're so alike in personality and would intuitively understand each other, to some degree.


	4. Stymied sparring

When Setsuna’s not busy dozing—and she can’t sleep  _ all _ the time—she decides to talk to Hisui, next time he comes to visit. But he doesn’t come for several days. It’s long enough for her to go from worrying that he will come, to deciding he must not care, to wondering what she was thinking for imagining he might care at all.

_ Stupid Moroha _ , putting ideas into her head. Hisui clearly does  _ not _ care, or at least he’s decided she’s no longer worth visiting. She was probably reading too much into their interactions in the first place. 

Three more days pass, three increasingly intolerable days, during which Setsuna stews and sleeps and glowers. She’s sick of being in bed, sick of sleeping all the time. Hisui seems to have all but forgotten her. Moroha is a pest, Towa is hovering, and even her mother is starting to get on her nerves, or as much as Rin can get on  _ anyone’s  _ nerves.

“I can’t take this any longer,” says Setsuna at last, dragging herself to her feet. She’s been chilly all day, and her muscles feel sore, but it’s been two weeks and damn it, she can’t stay in bed any longer. She’s had enough of being an invalid to last her three lifetimes. “My muscles will atrophy. I  _ have _ to practice.”

“You can’t stand without yawning,” says her mother. “Lie down.”

Setsuna ignores her, grabs for the naginata. Hisses with the effort of hoisting it aloft. What was light in her hanyou form is impossibly heavy for a human. Even her body feels heavy. How high could she jump now. A foot? Two feet?

“How do you  _ stand _ this,” she says, then breaks off, embarrassed at the note of petulance that seeps through her voice. She must really be losing it, the human blood in her is making her  _ ridiculously  _ short-tempered—

“Oh, Setsuna,” sighs her mother. “It’s easy for me because I don’t have anything to compare it against.” 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it.” She grabs the naginata again, and then, setting her jaw, hoists it up. Rin eyes her with worry, but seems to decide not to stop her.  _ Good _ . Setsuna’s hand tightens around the far-too-heavy naginata, and she pushes open the door, steps out into the village. The training grounds where she’s practiced with Hisui are not far from here. She only needs to make it up the road, an easy walk. She tugs her ears, frowning. Normally she could hear the sounds of the taijiya practicing from here, but her senses are blunted; even sounds are dull. 

“Oy, what are you doing?” says Towa; Setsuna spins on her heel—she didn’t hear her sister coming. Moroha’s close behind, looking fascinated. “Should you be awake?” 

“I am  _ awake _ ,” Setsuna grinds out, “I feel  _ perfectly fine _ , and I am going to practice. Will you spar with me?” 

“Um… no,” says Towa, drawing back.

“Moroha?”

“Yeeaah... I’m one hundred percent sure this is a bad idea. I’m just here for the show.”

“ _ Fine _ .” 

She will practice here, Setsuna decides, not because she’s already exhausted, but because it isn’t worth going all the way to the practice grounds just to do forms with her naginata that she could do here. Yes, here is the logical solution. 

She does one set and stops, trying not to pant, glowers over her shoulder at Towa, who seems torn between running toward her and wringing her hands, and Moroha, who’s predictably smirking. In the distance, on the path, a dark shape grows bigger--not clear enough to see properly—Setsuna squints, trying to make out who—

“That’s Hisui,” Towa says helpfully.

Setsuna’s head whips around; her eyes narrow. Her jaw clenches in a scowl. 

“Sorry,” says Towa. “He said he was coming to visit today. I know your eyes aren’t as good as they were — ”

With a growl, Setsuna storms down the path, dragging her naginata along after her. “Hisui,” she snarls. 

He blinks at her, surprised. Her free hand, the one not holding the naginata, clenches at her side. Stupid Moroha. He’s just a friend, just a friend come to visit, she had her entire family guarding her, for crying out loud, and that’s far more than she probably deserved! There’s no reason for her to be so irritated just because he hasn’t stopped by for a whole week—

“What’s going on?” says Hisui.

Setsuna sucks in a breath. The hand holding the naginata wobbles with effort. She is not angry at him. It would be stupid to be angry at him. “I’m looking for a sparring partner,” she says. “Will you spar with me?”

“Ah… are you sure that that’s—”

She shoots him a glare, and his voice trails off. “Right,” he says meekly. “As you wish. Let’s go.”

They’re only three blows in when she topples to the ground.


	5. A mother's advice

Setsuna opens her eyes to the sight of four faces above her.

“What happened?” She pushes herself up and winces. Her hands are scratched from the rocks. The cottage swims in her vision.

“You… kinda fainted.” Even Moroha looks concerned, which is not a good sign. “Just… splat, on the ground. Very undignified.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you spar,” Towa fusses. “Why didn’t you say something—”

“She had to figure it out for herself.” Rin runs a hand across Setsuna’s forehead, frowns. “You’re burning up.”

Setsuna tries to stand. Hisui and Towa grab her on both sides. Any other time she would be annoyed, but since their quick actions barely stop her from pitching forward again, she supposes she ought to be grateful. 

“A couple other villagers are sick as well,” Hisui offers. “Kohaku too. He had a bad cough and a fever; I was helping him. It’s why I haven’t been by recently.”

_ Oh. _

Setsuna stares at him with a sudden understanding and newfound alarm. She searches Hisui for signs of illness, tries to sniff the air—and winces when, predictably, her nose comes up empty. 

Her vision blurs again. She lifts her head, catches sight of her father, a short distance away. Even  _ he  _ appears worried, which is to say, he’s staring into the forest with supreme unconcern, his right ear angled precisely toward them.

_ Wonderful. This day keeps getting better... _

“Is there a demon in the village that’s causing this?” she asks, as they stagger their way in a clumsy three-step toward the house. “Does it need to be exorcised?”

“Um… no.” Towa eases her through the doorway and helps her into the main room. “I think it’s just the flu—a human illness.”

Setsuna settles onto the bed with a wince, hands still smarting from where she hit the ground earlier. Her eyes track from Hisui’s concerned face to her mother, who’s just grabbed a cloth and is dabbing it gently at her wounds. “Wait,” Setsuna mumbles, trying to push her away. “Wait, you’ll get sick too.” Fear claws her gut.  _ I’m being more of a burden.  _ “You and Hisui. You’re human. You have to go away—” 

“It’s  _ fine _ ,” says Towa. “They’ve probably already caught it if they’re going to get it. The biggest danger with flu is bacterial pneumonia secondary to the virus. But I have antibiotics with me. It’s okay.”

They stare at her. 

Towa sighs, blowing hair up out of her eyes. “I have medicine from the future. Everyone will be fine. But you should go, Moroha. I don’t want you catching it and bringing it to Auntie Kagome.”

-v-

Her mother washes Setsuna’s face with a washcloth. Setsuna’s tried and tried to get her to go to sleep, to leave her be, but Rin seems determined to stay by her side. Towa is passed out, snoozing nearby. For reasons she doesn’t understand, Hisui’s still there too, dozing near the wall. At some point, Towa found him a spare blanket and a mat.

“I think he feels guilty you’re sick,” says Rin, sweeping the hair back gently from Setsuna’s forehead. “He was a little bit ill last week, and Towa told him he might have passed it on to you and Kohaku. And he thinks he shouldn’t have sparred with you.”

Setsuna shakes her head. It had been stupid; the whole thing had been stupid. She grits her teeth, trying to stop shivering. Her head is pounding.

Rin hums soothingly, rubbing her forehead.

“You were the quiet baby, you know,” she muses. “Always quieter than Towa. You didn’t cry, you didn’t make much noise at all. For the longest time, I worried for your health.”

“I’m sorry,” says Setsuna. 

“That’s not— _ Setsuna _ . How strong you are, how weak you are, does not define your worth. And it turned out you weren’t weak at all, just quieter, and I had no reason to worry. Really… in retrospect, you were the easy one. You broke less furniture, for one thing.”

Her mother tucks the hair behind her ear. “You’re still quiet, you know. You keep your thoughts to yourself. It’s a good thing sometimes, a very necessary thing on the battlefield, when you’re dueling demons. But sometimes it's harder to tell if you’re struggling.” 

Setsuna closes her eyes. “I don’t want—”

_ To worry everyone. _

“Fear’s a strange beast,” Rin says wryly. “You may find that you'll worry the others less if you let them in." 

Setsuna is silent.

“I received your dreams for years,” says Rin. “Others haven’t, so they won’t know unless you tell them. But I know. You feel strongly and show very little. You’re like your father that way.”

Setsuna flushes. A sudden, horrible thought floods her mind. Her dreams, all the dreams her mother received, the dreams which should have been hers...

“What—” She swallows, tries again. “While you were in the tree. What did I dream?”

“Nothing shameful.”

Far from reassuring her, the words make Setsuna feel more inclined to sink through the floor than ever. There’s no way there wasn’t at least one disturbing dream in the mix, what with all the battles she’s fought, what with—

She glances again at Hisui sleeping by the wall, his face peaceful. Her stomach squirms. She’s had incriminating dreams since the dream butterfly spell was broken. She must have had incriminating dreams before then as well, dreams which would have been sent to her mother via the dream butterfly. Setsuna glances at her mother again, terrified at what she might see, but Rin just smiles at her fondly and presses the cloth to her forehead again. 

“I’m proud of who you’ve become,” Rin says soothingly. “We both are. Your father may not  _ say  _ so, but…”

Setsuna looks away, unsure what to say to this. The silence stretches—

“What made you decide to be with father?” Setsuna blurts out.

It’s a thing she’s always wondered—well, ever since the spell was broken and she got back her memories—and, she supposes, even before that, before the dream butterfly, when they were still in the forest, when she still remembered them.

Rin pauses the fingers she’s combing through Setsuna’s hair. “Love,” she says, and then adds, “Freedom, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got lucky, you know. I had many choices. Marry someone in the village, become his wife, live the life that was expected of a human villager. Marry a human lord, a daimyo, live the life of a court lady, pretty but powerless. Live a loveless life, the life of a lonely priestess, like Kaede. Or—defy all of that, live a life that was wild and different, with a demon I trusted, and no expectations at all. I made my choice, and I’m still glad of it.”

“Even with what happened? With Kirinmaru?”

“It was hard,” says Rin. “I won’t deny it wasn’t. But there were bright moments when you were growing up, so many. And now I have you, and Towa, and Sesshomaru, and everything I’ve wanted.”

“Did you worry that—” Setsuna chokes. “That you’re just too different? That…”

“That one day I’ll die and leave your father alone?”

Setsuna flinches. 

Rin pats her cheek. “Only someone with a brain of bricks wouldn’t have such thoughts,” she says. “Yes, I’ve thought about it. I know he has as well. But that’s the thing with love: there are always risks. It might not be me who dies first. Of the two of us, I think you know who’s more often in battle.”

Setsuna frowns. As a young child, she always thought her father invincible; her mother’s faith had made it so. Now she wonders: was that just an act? To shelter her—to shelter both of them?

“Don’t repeat that to your father,” Rin says, smiling. She sighs. “If I do die first,” she adds wistfully, “I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing he still has a family. That you and Towa will live on, after me.”

Setsuna nods, hearing the unspoken request in her mother’s words. “Hai,” she says softly.

The shivering is stopping. 

“He’s a good man.” Rin nods at Hisui. 

“Hai.”

“Have you talked to him yet?”

She shakes her head. 

Perhaps Rin sees the fear in her eyes; her face softens. “Remember,” her mother whispers, “There’s always a choice. Just talking with Hisui is not promising marriage; courting him to see if you are compatible is not a promise either. Live life by your own choice, and if he is a good man, he’ll respect that.”

Setsuna nods. 

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know :) I live for your wonderful comments.


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